Summer At The Lake, Again!
by Maya Beebop
Summary: Kevin, Oz, Finch and Stifler pack up for the lake after their sophomore year at college.  But they've overlooked one little problem: they need a fifth income to pay for the house over the summer!  When things get desperate, they ask the only person that c
1. Snagging the Fifth

"How's it goin', Fuckface?"

Oz looked up with a smirk at Stifler, who stuck his tongue out, waggled it and grinned. "Time for the tally; that extra-special time of year when we compare how many chicks we've boned. What've you got to say for yourself? You and choir-chick still going at it?"

Oz groaned good-naturedly and stood up from his seat on a bench near the Library Hall. "Yeah, yeah. Joke all you want, Stifler. It still doesn't change the fact that I've got something with a girl you'll _probably_ never have."

"I've got something you will _absolutely_ never have. A pair of balls." 

The two laughed as they walked down to the parking lot. The blonde opened his car door and yelled to Oz, who was nearing his own vehicle.

"Hey, is Jim coming to the lake?"

"Nah, he and Michelle are going to Band Camp together," Oz laughed.

"What a pussy. Pick me up at four-thirty, alright?"

"Yeah. Me, Kevin and Finch will swing around with the truck then."

Both got in and drove in separate directions, Stifler heading to his house and Oz driving to Kevin's, where they promptly loaded up the pickup with all their supplies and drove to get Finch. They picked the boy up with the regular greetings and headed to Stifler's.

As they were driving, Oz turned to Kevin.

"So, who's the lucky fifth person to make up for Jim not being there?"

Kevin gave him a weird look and shook his head. "Dude, that was _your_ job. You said you knew a guy who'd wanna come along."

"Yeah, I said that. But we never _asked_ him!"

"Oh shit." Kevin moaned and held his forehead. "We need a fifth income if we wanna be able to pay for it! What are we gonna do? Do you know _anyone_ we can ask this late?"

Oz braked to a halt in front of Stifler's and honked the horn. "We can always work double-shifts somewhere…but we'd have no time to party,' he commented disdainfully.

Stifler came out of the house with a few bags and threw them into the back. He pulled himself into the bed and gave Finch the evil eye.

"Why the fuck we gotta bring this asshole?" he demanded.

"Because we need his money and because he deserves to be here as much as you do. And speaking of money, do you know anyone who we could ask to come with us? We need someone to make up for Jim," Oz asked.

As Stifler was shaking his head, they heard a scuffle from the main house and suddenly the front door was kicked open. The boys all turned to catch sight of a late-teenaged girl with long dirty-blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, dressed in a rumpled black tank top and jeans. Her green eyes were blazing and her hands gripped an ugly brown bag, which she flung in a perfect arc across the lawn. The bag fell in a heap not two feet from the truck and she put her hands on her hips and snarled.

"You forgot some of your _personals_, dumbass. And the next time you look for lingerie to practice with, I'd thank you to _not_ go through my underwear drawer, you fucking pervert!"

All mouths but Stifler's dropped open. "Stif, who's that?" Kevin asked cautiously.

He sneered. "My sister."

"Half-sister, you piece of shit. Don't _even_ let them think I'm completely blood-related to you!" she called across the yard.

"Half-sister?" Oz asked of the blonde in the back.

Stifler shrugged, disgustedly. "My mom let the bitch move in with us during the school year. Her dad is moving to Europe and she doesn't wanna go." To Finch, who Stifler could see was about to inquire about his mother, he flipped the bird. "Eat shit, Shitbreak."

Kevin grinned. "She doesn't happen to have plans for this summer, does she?"

Not thinking, Stifler folded his arms and rolled his eyes. "Not if you don't count sitting around or whoring herself around town. Larissa is a closet lesbian; I just _know_ it"

When he saw the looks in the guys' eyes, he shook his head. "_Oh_ no. You aren't even gonna _think_ of asking-…"

"Hey Larissa! You wanna come stay at the lake this summer?" Kevin called out the rolled-down window.

She eyed them suspiciously. "I'm not gonna have to sleep anywhere near that dickhead, am I?" she demanded.

Oz laughed and shook his head. "Nah, you get your own room."

She smirked and turned on her heels. "Give me five minutes to pack. So long as no one goes through my underwear, I'm game."


	2. Getting Settled

They made it to the lake without too much fighting. At one point they stopped for McDonald's and when Larissa ordered a double bacon cheeseburger, Stifler made an ugly comment about her weight and Larissa punched him. Granted Stifler was wolfing down a Big Mac and a super-sized soda and fries, so he had no room to talk, but she hadn't a single bit of fat on her.

Pulling up on the gravel, the boys all hopped out, grabbed their bags and made for their old rooms. When Kevin noticed Larissa had barely pulled her stuff out of the pickup, he came back and escorted her into the house. Her jaw dropped at the inside.

"All this is _ours_ for the summer?" she raved.

"Yep. Now let's go get you a room. I don't suggest Jim's old one; the bed's got a nasty squeak and I don't even wanna check to see if they replaced the table and lamp…"

She didn't ask and he took her upstairs, where he bypassed the first few rooms and started looking around, sort of confused.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Well, no, not really. But I never really made the point of exploring any farther than our rooms. There's supposed to be another around here besides Jim's, but…"

"Is this it?" She opened a closet door and ended up getting buried under a pile of brown towels. With a gagging sound, she pulled them off and realized some were covered in white stains.

"_Sick_," was all she said.

He chuckled a bit and then kept looking for the room. Finally he managed to find a door that didn't hide a booby trap or Stifler setting up his collection of porn. The door revealed a small room with a spiral wooden staircase leading upwards into the attic. He and Larissa went up; brushing away old cobwebs and forging a path to a large loft, outfitted with a Dutch four-poster bed, nightstand, and dresser with a full-length mirror tucked in a corner.

"Well this is cozy," Kevin commented, looking around. Larissa shrugged and dumped her stuff on the bed, sending clouds of dust into the air around them. "It reminds me of my room in the ski lodge," she commented dryly.

"Well, I'm gonna go back down and set my room up. See you out front in a half-hour so we can all go get dinner and look for jobs?" he asked. She nodded and Kevin descended the steps two at a time until he hit the floor and went to his room. He had unloaded only a few shirts and shorts when Oz appeared in his doorway.

"So what's it look like up there?" Oz demanded with a grin. "Did you guys…?"

"Dude, she's Stifler's _sister_. Forgive me, but the only guy in this house that's _ever_ had relations with Stif's family is two rooms down," Kevin returned with a smirk.

Oz laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Who knows? She _is_ kinda hot…"

"And what happened to Heather?"

"I didn't mean for _me_. I'm just sayin'…Vicki isn't exactly your life partner anymore. And there is some prime booty upstairs unpacking her vast collection of novelty panties."

"How the fuck would you know about her underwear?"

"Stifler would use them on his pillow to practice with back in the day. Remember?"

"Oh yeah…"


	3. Finding Jobs

They all piled into the truck and made for town. As they ate hot dogs and burgers, the crew milled around downtown, looking for jobs. Kevin and Oz found a poster advertising painting jobs, but in memory of last year's escapades, they kept quiet about it and kept looking.

Meanwhile, Finch and Larissa were checking "Help Wanted" signs in stores. A hippie shop was advertising for night jobs, but they decided against it, as they wanted the nights to relax.

It turned out that Stifler came through for all of them. He was busy trying to pick up girls for their first party when he discovered a pamphlet asking for – of all things – bartenders. Specifically those who could host get-togethers and serve drinks.

He came running back, clearly ecstatic. "Don't you see? We could party _every_ night _and_ get paid for it! It just doesn't get better than that!"

The guys looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, I could see that," Oz commented. "And hell, we'd need at least two bartenders at one time, plus maybe an on-foot server. So two of us could slack off during a shift."

"Wait, wait," Kevin interrupted. "It says here that the hired help must appear _professional and experienced._ We're fucked there."

Larissa shrugged. "Buy a couple of uniforms and read Mr. Boston's guide. We can have this one nailed."

"She's got a point," Finch added. "Let's apply before some other jerks beat us to it."

They decided Finch, Kevin, and Larissa would go for the interview, seeing as they came over as the most "professional". Not surprisingly, the five got the job.

"Are you willing to host multiple events over the summer?" their middle-aged female interviewer asked. Her eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles and she smiled a tiny bit.

"Oh, of course!" Kevin answered, grinning back. "We're just beside ourselves with…excitement. We love throw-…I mean, _hosting_ get-togethers."

"I see. And what of the other two you claimed would be assisting? Are they as clean and good-natured as you three?"

Finch smirked. "Oh, of course. I can honestly say our two other boys are quite experienced in the field of drink preparation."

She rubbed her hands with an air of finality. "Well then, we have your address, we'll call you for the first date. I can give you an approximation and say in about a week from now, and it will be for the Lake Sanitation Department."

The three couldn't help but giggle at the initials of the name.

"No laughing, there. I promise we are completely serious," the woman said with a grin. "I didn't name it, after all."

"Yes ma'am," Finch said. "We'll be ready."


	4. Clean House

The next day, the boys tumbled down the stairs to see Larissa holding a vacuum, dusting clothes, Windex and a trash bag. Her hair was tied back in a red, frayed handkerchief, her hair was tied in braided pigtails and a little smirk played on her lips.

"C'mon, boys. This place probably has advanced civilizations evolving under the couches. I think I saw one move this morning."

"Move? Bullshit," Oz yawned. "I bet by now they can communicate."

Everyone grabbed a cleaning instrument while Stifler grabbed the keys. "Where the fuck are you going, Stif?" Kevin asked.

"We need booze, and I'm going to stock up, baby. Rule number one: you gotta put out a little bit before you nail the big one," he grinned.

Kevin shook his head and kept sweeping. "He _would_ get the best job for himself."

"Don't forget the scotch!" Finch yelled out the open window to the swiftly departing truck. But it wasn't so fast as to keep the driver from sticking his middle finger out the window.

Larissa was coughing from the excessive dust and spider webs under the bar, where she was cleaning. She pulled open a cabinet and laid eyes on what looked like a very decorative glass bottle of golden-brown liquid.

"Score!" she said, pulling it out and admiring the way it caught the morning light. It threw prisms of yellow and white over the mahogany counter, and the stopper made rainbows dance on the ceiling.

The other three guys looked over. "Wow. What's that?" Oz asked.

Larissa quirked an eyebrow at him and grinned. "I say we wait till this place is cleaned up to find out. Sort of a victory dance."

"Aw, come on!" Kevin said, exasperated. He reached for the bottle. "I hate suspense, especially when it comes to liquor!"

She snatched it out of his reach and fought him off playfully. "Not till the fat lady sings!" she taunted.

"Well, I'm all ears," Finch commented, going back to wiping windows. "Hide it from your relative, though. He doesn't believe in the sanctity of drinking."

"Don't I know it," she sighed, taking it upstairs. They suspected she hid it in her room somewhere, because she came back down with a blank face.

Hours passed. "Ugh," Oz groaned as he found yet _another_ suspicious pile of garbage hidden in a corner. "Does the family that actually owns this place _ever_ come back? Because I think I recognize that used condom from last summer…"

"You would, Oz," Kevin laughed as he pulled the dustsheets off the furniture and folded them. "Speaking of used condoms, what happened to Stifler? He's been gone almost all day. It can't take that long to buy enough alcohol to stock our little bar."

To answer his question, they heard the familiar screech of the truck outside; along with a crowd of voices they didn't recognize but knew meant trouble. The boys and girl came to the front door to see Stifler leading a pack of girls and a few guys inside, getting them to carry the booze he'd bought.

"No! No!" the guys yelled, trying to keep the crowd out of the just-cleaned house. "Just put the drinks down there and take the keg to the beach! You're not messing this place up!"

Stifler looked hurt for all of five seconds, then shrugged and told them to drop the stuff and follow him down to the water. Finch, Oz, Kevin and Larissa each picked up some alcohol and toted it inside, put it away, and went to change for the beach.

"Victory dance tonight?" Finch whispered to Larissa as they made their way down.

"If you're talking about the 20-year-old _scotch_ I found, I say we empty it out into an empty bottle and fill the one I found with beer," she muttered back with a smirk. "Then have our _own_ victory dance with the good stuff later."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Sneaky little harlot," he chuckled.

"Amen to that, brother."

They spilled out onto the sand and followed the laughs of the group Stifler had gotten together. On towels and blankets lay scantily clad girls and guys in trunks. Larissa clashed with the thong-favoring female style; she was wearing a dark green bikini top and tight black surfer slacks that came down to her lower thigh. Somehow, however, this worked to her advantage; because of her different appearance and being new to the area, she got the most attention from the unfamiliar guys. The other girls didn't mind, though; they were too busy flirting with Kevin and Stifler. Oz and Finch sat back with beer in hand, musing over past and current relationships.

"Stif's sister isn't too bad as chicks go," Oz commented, seeing her act rather indifferent to the guys that flocked around her. She was sort of treating them as equals, not as opposite sexes meant for procreation alone.

"Absolutely not. She is a diamond in the rough," Finch answered, taking a swig of his drink. "The girl has _style_."

Oz raised an eyebrow and gave his friend a suspicious look. "Finch, you're not thinking about boning _another_ Stifler woman, are you?"

"Absolutely _not_." He responded. A pause. "I'm seriously considering it."

"Finch!"

"What can I say? If his mother is the incredible woman she is, imagine her twenty-five years younger!"

"Aw, _Finch_!" Oz laughed, shoving his chuckling friend.

"Come on! Don't tell me you haven't noticed those enticing curves or those perfectly _luscious_-…"

" Nah, dude." Oz shook his head. "I've got Heather. Ok, I'll admit, Larissa looks fine. But whatever Larissa's got…it just doesn't compare."

Finch gave him a calm look. "Ah, love. I respect that. Good man, Oz. You're a good man," he said, patting him on the back.

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't strike up this conversation with Kevin; I think he's still going through Vicki-withdrawl. The discussion might deteriorate into gang-banging plans." Oz cracked up.

"Like I'd discuss my…romantic interests…with Kevin. That would be perfectly tactless."

Stifler meanwhile had been arranging a game of beer football. This game consisted of taking the remaining beer in the small keg and using it as a football. Two teams would face off, and whoever could successfully pass off the "ball" without throwing and smashing it and get the most touchdowns before half an hour was up won the keg.

Oz and Finch hopped up to participate. They joined opposite teams and the game began. Finch passed off to Stifler, who tossed it to another guy. While Stif and two girls held off the opposing forces, the other guy broke through the line and ran for it. They scored and he almost broke the barrel doing a touchdown dance.

The other team took a walk. Oz, Larissa, and Kevin were hunched over with three other girls and two guys. They made a game plan and took their places. Oz staked out dibs on Stifler, Kevin took a couple of girls who looked like they would remain joined at the hip no matter where they went, and Larissa stood opposite Finch and another boy.

The keg went into play. Oz made a rush and he made for the center of the field. Larissa and another guy backed him up, and they went ahead to clear the road.

The guy was keeping his side clear. A few boys rushed Larissa, but she used their momentum to throw them off and keep Oz's path open. Suddenly, Stifler and Finch were right in front of her. She tripped her brother, using the unstable sand and a bit of unfair play to her advantage, and realized that the only way she was gonna keep Finch off was to barrel into him.

She took him straight in the gut and they rolled over the sand. Oz streaked forward, onward to a point for their team. Larissa and Finch sat up and shook sand from their hair, laughing.

"Ow," he moaned playfully, rubbing his stomach. "That knocked my wind out. Ever consider playing on the football team?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked, standing up and grabbing his hand to pull him up. "I'm not a butch lesbian."

"I hope not. We've had bad experiences with lesbians around here," he commented.

"Go figure. That's one story I _don't_ wanna hear."


	5. Clothes Shopping

Meanwhile, the game had deteriorated into a wrestling match for possession of the keg. Stiff and Oz were half-buried under a writing mass of male bodies with Kevin cracking up and trying to pull guys off before they suffocated. All one could hear was the heated cursing and laughter for some time before the lopsided ball fell apart and they picked themselves up. The beer keg was dented and covered in sand, and they all spotted the hole in the side where the liquid had drained out into the ground.

"_Fuck_!" Stifler snarled. "Now I gotta go back into town and pick up another."

"Nah, don't worry about it. We gotta finish setting up anyway, man," Oz commented and the group dispersed. The five residents of the house went around to the back door, where they brushed off the sand as best they could and retired inside.

When they'd changed and reconvened in the living room, Larissa sighed loudly and groaned.

"What?" Kevin asked, taking a swig from a can of soda.

"We need uniforms, don't we? If we're catering, we need uniforms," was the reply.

Finch nodded in agreement. "I can't see us looking too professional without them. You think there's a decent store in this town where we can get fitted?"

"Only one way to find out," Oz answered, pulling out the car keys.

So they all piled in and were in the small town before half an hour had gone by. Driving down the streets, suddenly Finch tensed up and pointed out a department store that looked bland enough to sell them cheap, fashionable outfits. Upon entering, they split up and tried to find clothes.

"Man, all we're doing is serving alcohol," Stifler complained to Oz and Kevin. "It's not like we gotta be waiters in some high-class cocktail place."

"Still, Larissa's right. We wanna get paid and tipped, we gotta look the part," Kevin explained as he checked out dress pants. "You like tan or gray better?"

"If we're just picking out the pants, I'd opt for black. They'll match anything Finch and Larissa choose." Oz started perusing the racks of pants while Stifler lost interest and wandered around.

He lost himself in the aisles and was dangerously close to the lingerie section when he realized his position and grinned. It was a prime spot to check out hotties. As he hid himself among men's undergarments, he inspected the pickings.

He noticed one brunette, a little chunky around the hips; Hispanic but with blonde highlights in her hair. Kind of tacky, he thought. Two peroxide blondes near the novelty thongs; cute but probably underage. And they were too short to boot.

But _that_ blonde had a seriously fine ass under her dark capris. She was over in the Shirts section and a mannequin hid her face, but he noticed the chest covered by the red shirt and her average height and was getting ready to make the move when he heard Kevin calling his name.

"Stiff! Come on; we got stuff to try on!"

Stifler gave up and headed back over. Kevin shoved a pair of black pants into his hands, a white button-down and a burgundy vest with gold crisscrosses on it. Following his buddies into the dressing room, they all changed and came out to show off.

"Nice," a voice commented from the chair next to the three-piece mirror. They all spun to see Larissa inspecting the four of them with a smirk.

"Jesus Christ," Kevin laughed nervously. "Larissa, this is the guy's room!"

"That's right, Kev. And she must feel right at home." Stifler spat with a snide grin.

"Bite me," she responded, standing up and going into a stall with her outfit.

They stood around while listening to her change. A couple tried to bite back the burning desire to say something insulting enough to get her to barge out of there in nothing but her undergarments. Finally she emerged in an effeminate version of the same outfit, wearing tight black slacks, a white blouse, short tie and the burgundy vest.

"Everything fit ok?" Oz managed.

"Yeah. The pants kind of make my ass look huge, though," she commented, inspecting her rear with a cynical eye.

"Nah…" Kevin shrugged. "Well, yes, ok. But it's a good thing."

"Thanks loads," she muttered. "It's probably laced with Spandex."

"Just buy 'em and let's get out of here before the security cameras break," Stifler barked and went back in to change. The others followed suit and emerged in their regular garb.

Just as Larissa took everything up front to pay for it, Stiff watched her go and something clicked in his head. When he realized it, he almost threw up.

She was wearing a red shirt and dark capris!

He had checked out his own _sister_!

Jubilant that he hadn't said anything, he refused to look at her the rest of the day out of sheer disgust as they went home. When they got in, a message on the machine kindly requested that the party for the Lake Sanitation Department be held that night. They called the woman back, said they'd do it, and changed.


	6. Party Down

At 6:45, Oz staked out the front porch, willing to valet if it was necessary. Kevin sidled up to him, straightened his vest, and nodded to the driveway.

"Here they come."

They put on warm, fake smiles and Oz took the keys to a very nice Mercedes, which he slid into and drove to park behind the house. The middle-aged couple who had come in it was escorted in by Kevin, and they made straight for the bar, where Stifler was waiting.

He grinned and juggled two shakers as they approached. As he went about preparing their drinks, Finch stuck his head out of the kitchen and whispered to Larissa.

"Anyone who's seen Cocktail could do that," he sneered, giving Stifler a condescending glance.

She chuckled and rebalanced the tray of mediocre appetizers they'd picked up from the grocery store on her palm. "Of course anyone could. But not anyone can handle the cooking, or play the cocktail-waitress-slash-appetizers-wench." The spinach quiche bites were still soggy from the microwave, unable to be cooked in the oven as it was currently attempting to thaw a still-half-frozen box of cheesecake squares. None of the five was gifted with the ability to cook hors d'oeuvres from scratch beyond spraying Cheez-Whiz on a Ritz cracker.

Finch had given up on a forty-year-old cookbook he found stuffed in a cabinet in favor of buying frozen food in bulk at the local superstore. "What cooking? All I do is make sure the cheese fondue stays the right temperature and bring out the antipasto mix."

"As opposed to having dirty old men shove dollar bills in your belt, ask for a beer and grab your ass as you walk away?"

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You sound like you've had the experience."

She rolled her eyes. "When your mother teaches you that Hooters pays better than McDonalds, you learn fast."

Suddenly, in the space of half an hour, their house was packed with two dozen people, all Mr. and Mrs. Corporate America clones. None of them were dressed like they worked for the Lake Sanitation Department; it was suit jackets and cocktail dresses all around.

Stifler was beside himself with frustration.

"Dude, these women are all in their forties and ugly as hell!" he snapped to Kevin when he'd finished greeting people. "And not even a decent cougar in sight. This job is a waste."

Kevin reached under the bar, grabbed a beer, and took a quick swig before hiding it again. "What did you think was gonna happen, Stif? We'd throw a party once a week or two, get paid, _and_ pick up hotties?"

"Well…_yeah_!"

Kevin rolled his eyes and went back into the kitchen, where Finch, Oz, and Larissa were running around in a frenzy.

"What the hell's happening?" Kevin demanded.

Oz looked up from under the sink. "We just found mouse shit. Means there's a mouse in here."

"If the little rat gets out into the main room," Finch explained, "and anyone sees it, we'll be out of a job faster than we can kiss our collective backsides goodbye."

Larissa was brandishing a broom and trying to look behind the fridge. "We can't let it out," she said with slightly less resolve.

Kevin sighed and got on his knees to check under the cabinets. All too suddenly, they heard a shriek from outside, and they rushed to the kitchen door.

A rather rotund woman was flushed and clutching her husband for dear life. As if on a chain reaction, men let out sighs of disgust and women let out cries of surprise across the room. The hosts glanced down, saw a little brown bullet dart around on the floor, and jumped into action.

As Oz tried to calm the group down, assuring them that nothing would happen, everyone was attempting to catch the rodent in their own way. Stifler slid over the bar and tried to stomp on it, Finch grabbed a box to try to trap it and Kevin was trying to sweep it out the door with the broom he'd grabbed from Larissa. In the meanwhile, she was dealing with two older gentlemen who were taking the general upset as an opportunity to help themselves to the hard liquor behind the bar.

Just as Oz and Kevin had it corralled between them in front of the door, a whirlwind of black legs passed between them as Steven Stifler pulled back and in one almost perfect swing punted the rodent out the open front door into the grass on the other side of the driveway. He regained his composure and turned back to the party, smiled, straightened his vest, and announced, "Crisis averted, ladies. Return to the previously scheduled party, folks!"

The head of the department – Ms. Marjorie Galston, they had been informed – stomped up to Kevin and stuck a finger in his face. "Young man, if this house of yours is not up to the health codes laid down by this state, you can hardly expect to have a sanitation company's business, now or on the future. You have violated the contract and embarrassed the executive board-…"

"Oh, lighten up, Margie," one of the men at the bar drawled. "The same thing happened two years ago at the Hammond place and you didn't pitch a fit at them."

"Josephine and Gregory Hammond are longtime friends of the department."

"And they've pretty much got gators living in their retention pond. At least we got a show this time. Have another drink." He turned to Larissa and held up his empty old fashioned. "And same for me."

As the people drifted back into their previous conversations, she mixed his whisky sour. "I'm sorry, sir. This place is still throwing surprises at us. We thought we'd plugged up the holes."

"Speaking of plugging holes, sis," Stifler said as he elbowed her out of his spot behind the bar, "why don't you go back to the kitchen where you belong and load up another tray." He had his eye on the front door, where a fine-looking older blonde with alimony-paid implants just walked in and had her eyes on the bar. He hadn't landed a cougar since his second-semester English Structure professor and he was eager to see if he still had the edge.

Back in the kitchen, Finch was finished scrubbing up the mouse droppings and attempting to arrange the half-scorched cheesecake pieces on a serving salver. There was already a plate of cheese and crackers ready to go, but she didn't pick it up. Instead she picked up the glass of scotch he'd already poured for her and took a big sip.

"It's no Johnny Walker Blue," she coughed as the burn set in early. "And it tastes like someone cut it with something else. Like they married it with brandy or something. Yuck."

"Probably some incompetent kid who thought the glass decanter was pretty and wanted to fill it up," Finch replied as he drank his own. "I've been developing an appreciation for it ever since you started letting guests in the house."

"You've been getting drunk this whole time?" she laughed.

"No, my dear. I've only been drinking for a little while. I've _been_ drunk since the quiches went out."

"Lucky shmuck." She grinned, finished hers and put it down.

It took him a minute to realize that her hand on the glass and it down on the counter and her looking at him expectantly had meant to refill her glass. It had not meant to reach over, take her free hand and pull her to him. He realized he had very little chance of fixing the error while he was in the middle of kissing her.

* * *

If you've been reading and waiting a long time for an update, you can thank Christian Sunday Valentina for anything from this chapter on, as well as any friends who recently faved or messaged me to work on it.


	7. Night Games

It was a good kiss. It lasted longer than he thought it would have, him having drunkenly sprung it on her in the middle of a haze-induced moment where she looked extra-pretty in her tight red vest, finishing off a glass of scotch. She'd returned some of his moves, even going so far as to put her arms around his back instead of shoving him off first. But push him away she did, finally.

"Ok, that was nice and all, but we're still on the clock and you're lit. You want to go upstairs and I'll finish piling the rest of this stuff on? And I'll check up on you in a bit?"

"I'm not so bad that I can't finish the job in here," he waved his hand.

"No, Finch," she leaned forward conspiratorially. "Do you want to _go upstairs_ so I can _finish up here_ and _check up on you_, moron?"

Little hard to miss that hint. "Brilliant plan, you know where I'll be." With that, he left the kitchen, passed the bar where Stifler had his quarry on her second Screwdriver, went upstairs and into the room.

"You know, these parties are usually so dull," she smiled across the countertop at Stifler. "Usually we just talk about the office and who's divorcing who until someone makes a pass at the wrong board member and everyone goes home. I'm sorry I missed the evening's entertainment."

"You should be. I haven't made a kick like that since they threw Evans off the Varsity starting line to give me his spot." He decided she could handle an extra splash of vodka in her drink.

"Still in school, then?"

"Not for the summer. I don't have to be up early for anything."

"Isn't that convenient. Neither do I."

"If you need somewhere to stay tonight, we're a full-service company here. We'll put you up, if you're willing to share a room." He slid the third drink to her with a grin.

She picked it up and stood. "I wouldn't mind that at all. If I were to use the upstairs bathroom, where is that and where do I go afterwards?"

"Bathroom's first door on the left, room's third on the right. Enjoy your stay at El Casa De Stifler!" he called after her as she climbed the steps and disappeared into the room on the left.

As the party wound down, Oz continued to put half-drunk middle-aged adults into their cars as Kevin stood on the back porch with the two girls from the keg game earlier, thanking them for showing up unexpectedly and unannounced and explaining that they had to wait to come in until all the older folks were gone. The girls were fairly tipsy themselves, having come from another party down the beach, and weren't grasping the concept of "wait". This especially applied to the redhead who explained very bluntly to Kevin about her snake of an ex who neglected her for weeks while he banged every sorostitute into the floorboards and mentioned that they now had nowhere to stay for the night. Her friend also had nowhere to stay either.

"Well, I've got a queensize and we've got an extra room for the night. You ladies can have the big bed and I'll move." He let them inside once he was certain there were no customers left.

Oz came back in and collapsed on the couch. "Some asshole insisted on coming back over and over again, having me park and fetch his new Porsche so he could give women joyrides all night. I must've parked that car alone seven or eight times –"

"That's very fascinating, Oz, but we have company again," Kevin cut in. "This is Abby and Krystal."

Oz shook his head. "I'm not up to any more entertaining, Kev. They're all yours."

"No, w-we're just putting them up for t-tonight," he stammered, surprised by two very distinctly different hands on his back and backside.

Larissa passed by behind them on her way upstairs, eyeing the girls' activity. "Done cleaning up in the kitchen, going to bed. Don't stay up late, you three."

At the top of the stairs, she attempted to go into the bathroom, but the door was locked. _Must be Finch_, she thought, smirking to herself. _I should surprise the bejeezus out of him_.

Remembering that his room was near the end of the hall, she slipped into the third room on the right and pulled off her shirt. The room was empty and dark, but the bed was unmade so she figured he'd laid down for a nap to wait for her. She removed her bra and lay face down on the bed, her head away from the door, lower legs raised and crossed coyly.

Finch lay on the bed, still in a haze but wider awake than ever before. Sooner or later the party would be over and Larissa would be heading up here to make his night fantastic. He heard movement in the hall now, and put his hands behind his head to wait and closed his eyes, thinking about the carnal pleasures that awaited him.

Stifler finished wiping down the bar and headed upstairs to his evening's payoff. When he reached his room, there she was, already laying on the bed and playfully facing away from him, only her back illuminated by the shaft of moonlight coming through the window. The rest was in shadow. He pulled off his vest and shirt and mouthed his approval wordlessly as he ran a long series of kisses from her ankle to the middle of her back.

Kevin didn't have time to even open the door before the girls were yanking off their shirts, his shirt, collective pants, and devolving into a drunken mess of foreplay. He groped for the door handle, thinking it inappropriate to nail a threesome in the hallway. They came into the room like a hurricane, all three of them blindly falling onto the bed and continuing in the throes of passion, until a man's confused cries forced them to stop going at it and realize that a very naked Kevin had fallen down directly in the middle of the lap of a very naked Finch.

Stifler had managed to make it to kissing her shoulder as he massaged her lower back, teasing the skin just below her bustline. "You've got incredible skin for a woman of your maturity," he mused. "And seriously, the ass of a twenty-year-old."

The body beneath him froze and slowly turned its head. He realized that the face was not that of a forty-something businesswoman. He was looking at his mother's eyes and they were somewhere between horrified and disgusted.

That's when the mutual screaming started.

The hallway was full of naked people. Some of them had sheets clutched around them. Others held their clothes up.

"What the fuck were you doing in my room?"

"You were supposed to be Finch!"

"Why didn't you see I was on the bed before you fell on me?"

"Why are you drunk and naked on my bed to begin with?"

"Wait, you were gonna use my room to fuck Shitbrick?"

"No, I was going to use _his_ room!"

"Wait, you were going to sleep with Finch?"

The two girls were so frightened and confused that they ducked back into Kevin's room and shut the door. The rest of them attempted to figure out the mix-up while trying not to vomit.

"So who's in the bathroom?" Kevin finally asked, pointing out the one hole in the plot.

"Probably that cougar I bagged. I think I put a little too much in her drink. Hope she's not dead in there…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Larissa took the skeleton key off the top of the doorframe and unlocked the bathroom. There, sleeping peacefully in the tub, was the woman. Kevin draped a blanket over her and sighed.

"And through this whole mess, Oz is still passed out on the couch downstairs. I am in awe."


End file.
